Resolutions
by mag721
Summary: Puckleberry One-shot. Puck and Rachel both make resolutions on New Year's Eve. But there's one resolution they know won't be a problem to keep: to be happy.


**AN: Well, this small idea wouldn't leave me alone so I had to write it. Just a little something-something for you on New Year's. ;o) Hope you like it! Please R&R if you are so inclined! **

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"Stupid New Year's Eve," Puck grumbled to himself as he made his way through Santana's living room while dodging people dancing, couples making out, and some guys playing a rousing game of beer pong.

He looked around the room. He saw Santana and Matt dancing in the center of the room with Brittany and Mike. He saw Finn and Quinn talking quietly in a corner. He saw unknown Cheerios eyeing him and giving him flirty looks. He saw stupid, drunk freshmen trying to be cool. He saw everything and everyone but _her_.

He couldn't stop thinking about her. They had dated for about a week, but she affected him more than he cared to admit. She had a crazy personality, and she had perfected the "Diva Storm-out." She usually talked way too much, but he found that to be a good thing since it meant he didn't have to. But she was beautiful and talented, and she made him feel like he was worth something, something good. But he had let her go. He hadn't fought to keep her, instead just allowed her to walk away from the bleachers, walk away from him, walk away from them.

So, instead of thinking about _her_, because it was making his head and his heart hurt, he thought about some "resolutions" he could accomplish this year.

_Control my anger._

He thought of this first because it'd be the hardest to do. Everything lately made him angry. The thought of Quinn giving away his child without giving him a say. The way Finn doted on Quinn's every need like he was the father of said baby. The way Mr. Schuester always gave Finn and Artie solos in Glee. The way that his mother was always riding his back about school, getting a real job, and dating a nice, Jewish girl. The way that _she_ still looked at him like she wanted to be with him too.

_Be more responsible._

He figured that if maybe he cared more about school and showed he was responsible, Quinn would at least consider letting him be a part of the baby's life. He didn't want to be a part of hers, just the baby's. So, he'd study harder, find a real job, and even stop throwing slushies at freshmen (Hey, he stopped throwing them at _her_, he had to throw them at somebody). That would make him seem more responsible. And then, maybe he could be in his child's life. And maybe, he'd get a solo or two in Glee. And maybe, just maybe, _she _would give him another chance. It was a win-win situation really.

Puck was jolted back to reality when a football whizzed by his head.

"Hey, watch it!" he sneered to the scrawny third string football player who threw the wayward ball.

"S-s-sorry, Puck," he stammered, "I didn't mean for it to get away." The boy darted away as Puck continued to glare at him.

He sighed one last time. It was 11:59, and people were starting to couple up for the midnight kiss. A couple of girls were looking at him, waiting for him to give the first signal. But he wasn't going to be giving it. There was no way he was going to kiss someone tonight, unless it was _her_.

Then, thinking about his unwritten list, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door to the sounds of "Three…two…one!"

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"Stupid New Year's Eve," Rachel mumbled as she curled up on the couch after popping in _The King and I_.

Her fathers were at a company party. They had invited her along, but she really didn't feel like partying. Some of the Glee kids were talking about going to Santana's party. She knew the football players and Cheerios would be there. She knew _he_ would be there. She wanted to go, but she never went anywhere uninvited, and _he_ hadn't invited her.

As she settled into the movie and munched on popcorn, she let her mind wander to the place it had resided for the last few weeks. Why did her thoughts always come back to him? Rachel continued to ask that question, but she was aware of the answer: she liked him. She liked his cockiness because at least he was confident. She liked his sense of humor because at least he liked to laugh. She even liked his silly Mohawk because at least he dared to be different. She liked him more than she cared to admit it. But, it was her fault they weren't together. She had walked away, but _he_ hadn't bothered to follow her.

Trying to get her mind off of what could have been, she went to her room and grabbed a notebook and a fuzzy pen. She couldn't concentrate on the movie, so she might as well write down some resolutions.

_Control my abrasiveness. _

Rachel understood that people found her controlling personality a little less than desirable. Sometimes, it was to the point where she wondered how she had any friends. Then, she realized that outside of Glee, she didn't really have friends. Perhaps, if she worked on reigning in her personality, people would like her. Then, _he_ wouldn't to be ashamed to walk down the hall with her. Of course, she conveniently forgot that _he_ was never ashamed before.

_Be more flexible. _

This kind of went along with her first resolution. She would start giving up solos in Glee. Or at least, she would not throw a hissy fit if Mr. Schuester decided to give her solos to other people. It was a ripple effect really. If she was more flexible, she'd not be so hard-nosed about being on time, or so organized in her studies, or so unlikable. Normally, she hated compromising herself, and there were still things she would not compromise on (nudity and swearing and the ill treatment of animals). But, flexibility was a small step necessary to take to get friends. To get _him_ back.

"You are very difficult woman!" she heard the King of Siam say to Anna, though he could've very well been speaking to Rachel Berry.

She laughed bitterly at herself, sitting alone on New Year's Eve. She looked at the clock: 11:59.

"Well, old girl, looks like you won't be getting your midnight kiss this year," she whispered sadly to herself.

It didn't really matter, because she wouldn't want a kiss from just anyone. She wanted one from _him_.

She finished up her movie and began cleaning up her snacks. As she ran the dishes under hot water, the doorbell rang.

She opened the door, not caring that at way past midnight it could've been a masher. She guessed that if it was an attacker, he wouldn't bother to ring the doorbell. When she registered who was on her front porch, she just stared.

"Noah?" she asked tentatively.

"Hey, Rachel," he answered, just as hesitantly.

"What are –" she was cut off by his lips on her.

He kissed her cautiously at first, but as soon as the initial shock wore off, she began to relax into his kiss. He took that as a good sign, and when he ran his tongue over her bottom lip, she eagerly deepened the kiss. It was passionate and heavy, full of emotion and urgency on both their parts. He pulled her as close as she could fit against his body; her hands grasped at anything they could touch, his shoulders, his Mohawk, his shirt.

Finally, when air became a necessity, he pulled back. Her eyes were hazy, her cheeks rosy, her hair a little mussed. In his opinion, she'd never looked more beautiful.

He opened his mouth to say something, but she pressed her lips to his once more.

"Happy New Year, Noah," she murmured against his lips. He smiled against hers.

They made their way inside the house where they snuggled on the couch, talking and kissing. Rachel glanced at the clock. Her New Year's kiss had come fourteen minutes and twenty-seven seconds later than normal, but it was definitely worth the wait.

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**AN2: Hope you guys enjoyed it! May 2010 be filled with lots of Puckleberry goodness!**

**Happy New Year!**

**Remember, R&R = Love! :o)**


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